Sadistically Speaking
by SensuallyPassionate
Summary: A story for Jose. Helga is in a mental home for a murder she committed out of love.


**A/N: For Jose. Love you for those pics! A bit of a dark fic, but your Rugrats one will be cute and fluffy. **

**Sadistically Speaking**

These white walls bore me without effort. They carry no source of life upon them, not even a single picture frame. No paint is added to these types of rooms because it would cause mass riots to the mentally unstable, a group I am now classified in. They say any ounce of creativity and originality will trigger some chemical imbalance within a sadistic person's mind, the massive outbreak of "Life" waking a demon inside that has been leashed since their birth. Truth be told, I don't find myself sadistic, not the least bit; A little crazy from here to there, but not sadistic. They have me all wrong, the report of my murder bringing their philosophy of my being rather than a direct conversation. They don't even give me a chance. On the police report, it says I gave him a slow and painful death, it reading in italics "_Sadistic killer: Unleashed a rage that seemed to have been forming since childhood._" I scoffed when I read that and realized how judgmental some people are.

Truth is I didn't give him a slow and painful death. It was actually a fast one. The Bleach I put in his beer serving as my partner in crime, doing most of the damage before I laid a finger on his dying body. The whole process was pretty easy too. There was Bob sitting in the living room watching the game while Miriam is in the kitchen downing smoothie after smoothie- drowned in alcohol, but no one knows that little detail except me. I was just an observer, standing in the kitchen minding my own business, taking in every detail. Until, that is, he called me with the favor to bring him a beer. As usual, I declined the offer and made a huge deal about it- saying how lazy he was and how much he should learn to do shit on his own. The usual- but he threatened me with his _evidence _against my beloved to get me to comply with his wishes. I had no choice in the matter then. After that, everything was easy like Sunday morning. I took a four table spoons of bleach from the bottle that rested beneath the kitchen sink, put it in the beer, shook it up, recapped it, and then brought it to the big guy. Twenty-minutes later, he was on the recliner chair choking and gagging. I knew he was about to die, so THAT'S when it got graphic.

"Ms. Pataki?"

I diverted my attention from the boring old white walls to my psychologist, and mentor, Dr.Bliss. She knows me better than anyone…other than Arnold of course. "Hey Dr. Bliss."

"You know you can call me Madeline, Helga." she smiled and walked up closer to my bound form, her strides not being audible because of the cushioned floors of my cell. Yes, they gave us "crazy" people cushioned floors. Like I am going to hurt myself. "How's it going?"

I attempted to shrug, but my straight jacket prevented me from doing so. "Fine I guess. I'm living the life her at the crazy home. Padded floor, comfy restraints, boring décor. I'm all good."

She sighed and took a seat next to me. "Do you know why you're in here?"

"Because I murdered my father." My tone sounded more nonchalant than I intended it to be.

"And you were carrying sadistic tendencies Helga. You enjoyed hurting him." she looked at me, "I should have noticed these signs when you were little. Helga, you've gone mad."

"How could you say that?"

"You sliced him with a butcher knife eighty-seven times. He was dead after the tenth."

It was a steak knife actually, but I don't tell her that. "I was angry, my lawyer in pleading insanity."

She sighed again, this time, it not being audible. "You knew what you were doing Helga. You put bleach in his beer. That's a corrosive. It's a poison. It just proves how sick your mind is."

"My mind has always been sick Doctor. I have known that since the fifth grade when I tried to hurt little miss perfect Lila for stealing Arnold's kiss during the Valentines Day dance." Who could blame me for that either? The bitch knew Arnold and I dated. She was just being ignorant by taking my future husband. Stupid bitch deserved to fall down that flight of stairs, she is just lucky my plan to throw her under the bus didn't work.

"Helga, they are aiming for the death penalty."

Wasn't expecting that. "…Why?"

"Your method of murder was unforgivable in their eyes. They say your insanity plea isn't strong enough."

Bastards. They are just judging me by my first and only offence. If it weren't for Bob's so called "evidence" against Arnold's **accused** robbery of a candy store, I never would have acted like I did. Turns out the big oaf had no evidence on Arnold and the so called tape of the alleged robbery was filming a ten year old boy that looked like Arnold. It wasn't him. When you look at it, Bob started the whole thing. "But I'm in a crazy home, how much punishment can they give me?"

"You still have to serve time for the murder, Helga." she placed a hand on my shoulder and met her hazel eyes with my cobalt ones. "I'll try to help you, but I am no lawyer. I want the least painful sentence for you. You're so young."

My voice lowered to nothing higher than a whisper. "So what's going to happen?"

"…Not sure."

"I'm not sadistic….I just had to release the anxieties I had built up against him for a long time."

"But was your method orthodox though, Helga?"

"Orthodox, not entirely…Sadistically speaking, yes."


End file.
